


A Royal Affair

by SinceWhenDoIWriteFanFic



Category: Glee
Genre: Boypussy Kurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinceWhenDoIWriteFanFic/pseuds/SinceWhenDoIWriteFanFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a GKM prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Royal Affair

Kurt wakes suddenly, blinking into his dark room. He can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, and he pushes himself up off his mattress as he wonders what woke him up. With everything happening lately, from his father’s sudden and quickly declining heath to his burial the night before, Kurt had been relieved when the palace’s doctor had given him a special sleeping tea to help him rest. His chambermaid had steeped it for him not long after dusk and warned him that he probably wouldn’t wake until midday.   
Sensing that something is wrong, Kurt climbs out of his bed, not bothering to slip into his bathrobe or his slippers. He mentally catalogues everything that could possibly have stirred him from his slumber; he doesn’t have to go to the bathroom, his stomach is still comfortably full from dinner, the cat that wanders around the palace halls isn’t in his sleeping quarters. He’s shuffling towards his closet to check if something has slipped off the hanger when he catches sight of the dim blue light peeking in through the gaps in his curtains. Pulse quickening, Kurt drags a chair over to the wall, positioning it under the narrow window up near his ceiling. He has to pull himself up a bit, hanging on to the sill by his fingertips, but he manages to look outside to find the lanterns that light the guards’ towers all glowing blue.   
The significance isn’t lost on Kurt, and he hurries down from the chair. Blue fire is a warning; it means something’s wrong, that someone’s here who isn’t supposed to be. If you see a blue fire, Kurt, he remembers his father warning him when he was a child, you go to the secret chambers; they’ll lead you to safety. Ignoring his racing heartbeat and turning stomach, he wrenches open the door to his sleeping chamber and rushes across his sitting room and steps forward into the hallway.   
“Going somewhere, your highness?” comes the low taunt from behind him, and from the shadows steps a man. A general, if Kurt had to guess from his uniform. “And with no shoes and no coat?”   
Drawing himself up as tall as he can, Kurt huffs out, “I was going to fetch my chamber maid. I wanted to take a warm bath.”  
The man laughs. “At this hour of the night?”  
“Yes,” Kurt bites out. “I’m in my sleeping gown, and as you so cleverly observed, my feet are bare. Where else could I be running off to?”  
The man looks down, eyes raking over Kurt’s sleeping gown, his knees and legs bare underneath it. Kurt tries not to fidget at his stare, silently wishing he hadn’t been so quick to insist against wearing the longer gowns worn younger royalty that haven’t yet been betrothed. The man draws out his sword, long and dangerous, glinting even in the dim light. “Back inside you go, prince,” he instructs, moving slowly towards Kurt.   
Resigned, Kurt retreats into his chamber. The dull thumpthumpthump inside of his chest reminds him that he’s alive, urges him to anything so he can stay that way.   
“Where is your bathing chamber?” the general asks, sword still drawn. “If you still wanted that bath, that is?”  
Kurt doesn’t know whether to laugh or recoil at the man’s teasing. “Through here,” Kurt says quietly, opening one of the doors leading him through his sleeping chamber and through another door, into his bathing chamber. “I like the water very warm,” Kurt instructs, his voice gaining strength.   
The general lights the fireplace, and the glowing blaze allows Kurt to see his face more clearly. He gives Kurt a wolfish grin, and Kurt tries not to react to his bright hazel eyes, honeyed skin, or dark curls spilling about his face. “I will keep that in mind.”  
Kurt watches as the intruder fill the tub, his eyes occasionally following the wispy tendrils of steam that float towards the ceiling. His heart is still pounding, and his mind races as he trying to plan.   
“Here you go, highness,” the man tells him, stepping aside from the tub.   
The idea strikes him as he slowly steps out of his sleeping gown and he catches sight of his book peeking out from beneath a towel. The water is warm as he lowers himself into it, and despite his fear, he can finally take a deep breath. “What, no bubbles?” he asks his intruder with a scowl, hoping to mask the blush that’s certainly blooming across his chest at the intense staring directed at him.   
“Feeling exposed without them, prince?” the man strikes back, and Kurt can feel himself flush more with the response.   
Trying hard to ignore the other man’s presence, Kurt tries to remember his plan; it had been a while since he’d had time to read his book, only daring to read it when he was certain none of his maids would interrupt him. The maiden touches herself, catches the knights attention, and seduces him, he thinks to himself. Easy enough, or it would be if the voice in the back of his head would stop reminding him that this is a life or death situation.   
He rests his head against the edge of the tub and lets his eyes drift shut. He lifts a hand and drags it across his chest, his fingertips teasing at a nipple. Within a few moments, both his nipples are pebbled, hard and pink, and he can feel himself get wet between his legs; he’s done this enough times that his body knows what to anticipate.  
Keeping his eyes closed, Kurt reaches down between his thighs, letting his hand rub gently at his thigh. A soft moan escapes his lips, and he finally lets himself rub at his clit.   
“That’s not very princely,” the man says, and Kurt smirks when he notices the tremor in his words.   
“No, I suppose not,” Kurt agrees, spreading his thighs further. “But then again, I suppose I’m not longer a prince,” he adds, slowly sliding a finger inside himself. Feeling bold, he opens his eyes and stares at the general.   
They don’t exchange words as Kurt gradually thrusts inside himself harder; the man just watches, his hands clenching the fabric covering his thighs and the crotch of his pants grows tighter.   
Kurt orgasms with a loud wail, his legs splashing water out of the tub and onto the other man, feeling unexpectedly bold at the audience. Panting harshly, he picks up the soap and finishes washing himself. “Any chance you’d be willing to wash my hair?” Kurt asks, gazing up at the man through his eyelashes.   
“Get out,” the man commands. “I think you’re quite done in there.”  
Not wanting to press his luck, Kurt rises out of the tub and quickly towels himself off. He declines to take the gown held out to him. “It’s dirty, I want to put on a clean on.”  
Too aware of the man’s eyes on his naked backside, Kurt sways his hips side to side. He disappears into his closet, taking a moment to steel his nerves. When he returns, clutching a clean sleeping gown in his hands, the man is standing at his door; the door is propped open slightly, and Kurt can hear someone on the other side whispering quickly. They must sense Kurt’s presence, because the general swiftly shuts the door. He doesn’t turn to face Kurt, though, and Kurt takes the opportunity to come closer.  
“Will you tell me your name?” Kurt asks, reaching out to lay a hand on the man’s back.   
“Put your clothes on,” comes the tense response.  
“I don’t want to,” Kurt tells him. “You can take me to bed if you’d like.” The offer comes out in a rush of nervous words.  
“I’d think you’d be satisfied after your bath.”  
“I’m never satisfied,” Kurt teases, stepping in closer and letting the cloth in his hand drop to the floor. Sliding his hands over the man’s chest, he adds, “I’ve always been too afraid to let myself go. It’d been assumed I’d birth my own heirs- I needed to prove to my husband that my children were his. And now…” he lets himself trail off as his hands come to rest over the man’s erection.  
“Blaine,” the man says in a grunt.  
“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, his words just a whisper into the man’s ear.   
Blaine turns around, his eyes sweeping over Kurt’s naked form. His eyes land on Kurt’s and Kurt draws himself up tall under the scrutiny. When the hand reaches out and cups his cheek, Kurt finds himself surprised at how soft Blaine’s hand is.  
He’s not nearly as surprised that Blaine’s lips are even softer as they press against his own, the gentle pressure forcing Kurt to let his lips part. When he feels Blaine’s tongue slip into his mouth, and his hand slip in between his legs, Kurt gasps.  
“Blaine,” Kurt moans as the man picks him up and carries him to his bed. “Please,” he begs as he’s dropped unceremoniously onto the soft mattress.   
Hands push his thighs apart, and then Blaine’s burying his face in the damp space between them. Kurt gasps as Blaine licks over his pussy, the warm tongue so unlike his own fingers.   
“Oh god,” he whimpers, letting his hands settle down on the man’s head, pushing him closer to his aching core. His whimpers increase in volume as Blaine groans against him before sucking Kurt’s throbbing clit into his mouth.   
Kurt might have been trying to save himself, but he can no longer deny that he wants this; he’s already so close, hips grinding against Blaine’s face, surely smearing his wetness all over him, and fingers dug tightly into his curls. “I- I- oh!”  
Blaine slides two fingers inside of him, and it’s more than Kurt’s ever taken inside himself before, so it takes him over the edge easily. He squeezes his eyes closed as his legs try to do the same around the head in-between them.   
When he finally recovers, he opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows. Blaine is still between his legs, staring with hungry eyes at his pussy. Kurt reaches down and spreads his lips open, displaying his tight hole for Blaine’s eyes.   
“You can take me,” he says, and he can feel the fluid leaking out of him at the prospect of it. Blaine’s thumb rubs over the slight gape, and Kurt shivers.  
Blaine’s stare is firmly fixed on Kurt as he quickly removes his clothes; his pressed uniform tossed into an unbecoming rumpled pile of the floor. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, thick and long, weighed down by it’s own sheer size.   
The head of it bumps against Kurt’s clit as Blaine resettles next to him, smearing it’s own wetness against Kurt’s messy skin. “And you’ve never-“ Blaine starts to ask.  
“No. But that doesn’t matter here,” Kurt cuts him off; he doesn’t want to remember that he’s doing this to hopefully stay alive, he wants to stay the moment of a handsome, well endowed man lying naked on top of him. Wants to focus as Blaine leads the tip of his cock into Kurt’s tight entrance.   
“Oh!” Kurt yelps as Blaine pushes all of the way inside him. There are a few moments of unpleasantness, the dull pain inside of him overwhelming his senses.   
But then the angle of Blaine’s hips changes as he thrusts in, pressing against something inside of him, making Kurt’s hips writhe against the mattress, makes fireworks spark behind his eyelids, makes him moan and clutch at Blaine’s shoulders. When, several thrusts later, Blaine hasn’t pressed against that spot again, Kurt braces a foot against the bed. With Blaine’s surprise in his favor, he’s able to flip them over. From his position on the top, he can get Blaine even deeper inside himself.   
Experimentally, he grinds down against Blaine, huffing out a breathy laugh when Blaine public hair tickles at his clit. When he rises up off the mattress and gently drops back down, Blaine groans loudly and grabs at his hips, giving Kurt to move faster.   
Kurt follows his instincts, swiveling his hips down before bouncing up and down, repeating the process, slowing down and speeding up to keep himself on edge and to make it last.  
“Kurt,” Blaine moans, reaching a hand up, his thumb sliding in between Kurt’s lips.  
Kurt lets his tongue lick against the pad of Blaine thumb before sucking it into his mouth, letting his teeth dig gently into the flesh. Blaine grunts, his hips thrusting off the mattress, his rough movements triggering Kurt’s orgasm.   
As Kurt writhes on top of Blaine, the walls of his pussy clenching down against Blaine’s girth inside him, Blaine finishes as well, spilling inside of Kurt.  
Breathless, Kurt lets Blaine flip them over. With his back against the mattress, Kurt allows Blaine to spread his thighs apart as he separates their bodies. Kurt can feel Blaine’s seed slowly trickle out of him, and based on the ways Blaine darken, Kurt guesses it doesn’t escape his notice.  
Blaine meets Kurt’s gaze, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward briefly before he leans in and kisses, one hand holding Kurt’s chin steady as his tongue licks behind Kurt’s teeth. When he pulls away, he settles down on the bed, rolling Kurt over onto his side and curling up behind him. As his breath starts to even out, his hand stays cupped possessively over Kurt’s pussy.  
They lay in silence, and eventually Kurt is certain the other man must be asleep. Part of him thinks he should use the opportunity to escape, but instead he allows himself to join Blaine in slumber. 

**  
When Kurt blinks awake, his room is flooded with light from the small windows, and he’s alone in his bed. Sitting up, he considers his options; he could run, he thinks to himself. However, that idea is quickly shut down when a wiggle of his hips reveals how sore he is. He shouldn’t be surprised; he’d allowed himself to be feasted upon and then ridden Blaine like some sort of prized steed.   
“Ah, good, you’re still here,” Blaine exclaims, coming through Kurt’s chamber door. Kurt’s pleased when he notices Blaine is only more handsome in the light of day; he’s even more pleased when he notices the crown balanced on top of Blaine’s head. “In an hour or so, we’ll be making the announcement.”  
“Announcement?” Kurt wonders, letting the fabric covering his chest drop to his lap.  
“As you might have figured by the crown, my title is Prince Blaine, of Dalton,” Blaine starts. No wonder Kurt hadn’t recognized the name or the face; his family had never interacted with that kingdom to the west. “I’ve convinced my father that our new people, the one from your former kingdom, might welcome our authority more easily if we provided them with a token of their past.”  
Kurt doesn’t quite understand. “Meaning?”  
“Well, you’re really quite beautiful,” Blaine compliments, taking another step towards the mattress, smiling when Kurt edges towards him. “And, if your performance last night is any indication, you’d make a perfect consort.”  
Kurt grins. “And?”  
“I’d never guess you’d be one for such formality,” Blaine teases. “I’m offering my hand in marriage. Do you accept?”  
Kurt pulls the sheet off of his lap, exposing himself to Blaine. “I accept,” he agrees, pulling Blaine in by the collar for a kiss.


End file.
